


He Used To Be Mine

by nicthetoony359



Category: Doctor Who
Genre: Angst, Experimental Style, I don't usually write angst, Songfic, Waitress - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-17
Updated: 2017-09-17
Packaged: 2018-12-30 19:10:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12115299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nicthetoony359/pseuds/nicthetoony359
Summary: The Doctor is changing.He doesn't like that. Not one bit.(I'm not sure if the lyrics really fit. I changed them a bit, but only the gender pronouns.)





	He Used To Be Mine

_‘It's not simple to say  
_

_most days I don't recognize me’_

 

The Doctor awakes from his sleep, he wished he hadn’t. He wished all of this had never happened. He wishes all of this would just disappear. He wishes he could disappear.

He looks at the column at the TARDIS’ center, his face reflecting off of it. For a moment, he thinks he looks much frailer, dressed in black.. with a girl by his side He knows it’s not real, but he can’t help but look.

 

_‘That these shoes and this apron_

_That place and its patrons_

_Have taken more than I gave them’_

 

Bill is gone. Nardole is gone. Missy left.

Rose is gone.

Donna can’t remember.

The Ponds shouldn’t come back.

..Clara. He’s not entirely sure if he knows who that is.

 

_‘It's not easy to know_

_I'm not anything like I used to be’_

 

The Doctor. Who is that? It’s always been up in the air honestly. A madman, a saviour, a healer, a destroyer. Definitely not consistent, that’s for sure. He staggers as he tries to stand, words pour from his mouth but he doesn’t know what he’s saying. But maybe he does, maybe he just doesn’t want to listen.

It’s one of many things he isn’t good at. Keeping promises being another one.

“Get off your arse and win.” Someone told him. They would be disappointed, he thinks.

 

_‘Although it's true_

_I was never attention's sweet center_

_I still remember that boy’_

 

Why couldn’t he have been cruel? Why **shouldn’t** he? Why couldn’t he have just run off like he always did? Why did he try? Why did he even care? Why didn’t he care? Why did he leave? Why did he stay? Why does he run? **_Why don’t they stay!?_**

....

Why didn’t he stay? Why did she leave..

 

_‘_ _H_ _e's imperfect but he tries’_

 

He tries to stand, to stay his ground. Use the console to support him. Susan would want him to stand. Ian would be sickened if he let himself die. Barbara would sooner kill herself than let him go trough with it.

Rose would cry. Martha would weep. Donna would shout.

Bill would’ve kicked his arse.

 

_‘_ _He is good but he lies’_

 

He manages to stand. Barely, but it’s a start. He’s going to make it. He’s going to go on and save worlds and laugh and smile and he would make someone better and they would smile.

He was always good at lying.

 

_‘_ _H_ _e is broken and won't ask for help’_

 

He has to go on, he has to keep fighting. Keep helping and healing. Because that’s who he is. The Doctor. The man who heals everyone.

Except himself.

 

_‘He is messy, but he's kind_

_He is lonely most of the time’_

The humming of the TARDIS helps him focus, helps him fight trough the haze. His hands glow that damned golden light. _“No.”_ He screams in his mind. Not now, too many times has this happened. “It’s starting. _I’m regenerating!_ ” No. Not now.

His hands seem younger, they weren’t really, but he couldn’t imagine them as anything else. The TARDIS interior shifted, the wall was white, then it was wooden, then it was bronze.

Change. Change. Always change. Susan left. Then Ian, then Barbara, then Jamie, then Adric, then The Brig, then The Ponds, then Clara..

Then him.

 

‘ _He is all of this mixed up and baked in a beautiful pie_

_He is gone, but she used to be mine.’_

 

_ “I WILL NOT CHANGE.” _

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know how to feel about this one.


End file.
